I sat in silence during dinner, not wanting to bring up anything up to my parents, since the other parents had not told them anything about the past few days. I imagined a small mob of pitchforks and torches slowly advancing upon our house and I would have to talk about everything. We were just about to have dessert when there was a loud knock on the front door.

My parents look at each other wondering who it would be. Dad got up from the table and walked down the stairs to the landing area where the front door was.
“Hey, Ben, what’s going on? What happened to you, Hank?”
And with that, I no longer wanted my pie. I only wanted to dart out the back door and run to the woods.
“We’re hoping your son can answer a few questions for us, Greg.”
“Come in. Jeff!”
Mom looked at me and then walked down the stairs.
“Hank! That looks like it hurts.”
I followed Mom and saw Hank’s face, with his nose covered with more gauze and tape. There was still a little blood around his nostrils. Mr. Prat looked at me and then back to my dad.
“Jeff, can you tell me exactly what happened at the mall earlier today?”
“Was there a robbery?” Mom asked. “I should have said no to letting you go.”
“No, Bridget. A fight broke out between my son and the sister of Jeff’s friend.”
“The girl you were telling me about?” Mom asked as everything looked at me.
I had to carefully plan out my words. Too much emphasis on what happened would cause chaos in the living room. Telling the lie Mr Prat and Hank wanted me to say would hang with me forever. It would save me from being accosted by high school clowns in a car, but it would still be a lie.
“Hank’s just minding his own business when a crazy girl comes and hits him in the face. No provocation. And don’t get me started on her dad. He’s crazy.”
“Well, Jeff, is that what happened?” Dad asked.
“Yes, there was a fight, but I was too far away to see or hear what happened. They were just fighting, and Hank ended up on the floor a few times.”
Hank’s nostrils, for what could be seen of them, flared.
“Where do they live, Jeff? Mom asked,
“On the other side of the creek.”
“Across the creek?” Mr Prat exclaimed. “Nothing’s across that woody area except unused land.”
“They have a two-story house.”
“Greg, can you come with me to see them? We’ll drive by.”
“Sure, Ben. Jeff, let’s go.”
I didn’t want to go anywhere with Hank. Mr. Prat had a heavy duty truck that the neighborhood kids used to pile into the back, and he’d drive everyone around, at least before the MACS dipped their poisoned thoughts in and the kids never wanted to ride again. Dad and Mr. Prat rode in the front seat with me wedged between them. Hank sat in the back of the truck on the corner near the passenger side. We drove to the end of the block, made a right-hand turn and then another right-hand turn less than thirty seconds later. We drove down a gravel road with grass and rocks covering the surrounding land.
“There’s nothing here, Dad. It’s just fields.”
Mr. Prat stopped the truck and looked at my Dad. Dad then looked at me.
“Jeff, where is the house?”
“It’s across the street and the creek from our house. I’ve been over there. There’s where the driveway is…or was.”
The two looked at me and Mr. Prat scowled as he started to turn the truck around. “Are you sure it’s not on the next street?”
I nodded as Hank slapped his hand on the side of the truck in frustration.
“You’re sure?” My Dad asked.
I nodded and jumped out of the back of the truck. I didn’t want to cause any problems for the Joels, but I also did not want my dad or the Prats to think I was a stupid kid without a sense of direction. However, at that moment I was at a loss, and I really did feel kind of stupid. There was nothing but a field of rocks and tall grass.

“Nothing’s here dad,” Hank whined.
“We’ll check with the police, son. Let’s circle back to the house.” Mr. Prat replied.
“I’ll walk back home dad,” I said while avoiding the look of daggers in Hank’s eyes. It looked like he blamed me for not getting his revenge that evening.